


across the hallow'd ground

by FreshBrains



Category: Lost Girl, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Casual Sex, Community: comment_fic, Crossover, Full Moon, Heartbreak, Hook-Up, M/M, Outdoor Sex, POV Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 10:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2105835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s an old werewolf, an old soul, and Derek is in awe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	across the hallow'd ground

**Author's Note:**

> For the LJ comment_fic prompt: _Lost Girl/Teen Wolf, Dyson/Derek, bond._

Dyson presses a firm hand to Derek’s chest, keeping him from leaning up for another kiss.  Derek is used to being the taller one in whatever kiss he chooses to partake in, but Dyson has at least three inches on him, his arms banded in muscle that Derek knows can only form with age. 

He’s an old werewolf, an old soul, and Derek is in awe.

“Why would you think this is a good idea?” Dyson keeps his hand on Derek, his voice gritted out through his teeth.  He’s got a voice like Chris Argent, all deep and wise and filled with the kind of gentle venom that makes Derek want to submit.  The milky moonlight makes Dyson’s eyes glow—he’s got yellow eyes, but Derek can tell they’ll burn red when the moon is full.

“I’ve got bad luck with love,” Derek says wryly, looking at Dyson with his chin tilted up.  He’s practically a baby next to a werewolf of Dyson’s age, and Dyson’s definitely a powerful wolf—Derek saw him for the first time stumbling around the preserve in full wolf form.  “So don’t worry about me falling for you.”

“You must’ve lost her,” Dyson says with half a smirk on his face.  “Or him.  You must be ready to throw it all away for a quick fuck in the forest, kid.”

Derek bristles, standing his ground, the warmth of Dyson’s palm making him want to get on his knees.  “I haven’t bonded yet.  I’m just getting started.”  He swallows hard, jaw clicking, and raises his hands to rest against the lapels of Dyson’s brown leather jacket.  His thumbs wander beneath the fabric, feeling Dyson’s warm skin through the cotton of his tee shirt.  “I’m sick of being disappointed.  I just need something…”

Dyson growls low in his throat, pulling Derek in so they’re pressed together, his arm wrapped low around Derek’s waist.  “Quick?  Easy?  _Fun?_ ”  He leans in and scents along the shell of Derek’s ear, pressing his nose into Derek’s dark hair.  “God, you smell heavy.  Your pack is young, and so is your alpha.  No wonder why your world is a shit-storm.”

“So give me a break,” Derek breathes, still looking defiantly into Dyson’s eyes.  “Whoever she was, you lost her.  You gave her your life’s bond and now you’re here, with me.”  He ducks down, biting along Dyson’s throat.  He was never good at verbal intimidation; he could never talk his way out of trouble.  But he could smell it on Dyson—loss, heartbreak.  He wanted to pull that scent out of him; he had too much of his own.  “So why don’t you push me in the dirt and make the most out of the moon?”

Dyson’s eyes glow, and his hands curl around Derek’s hips, bringing him to the carpet of dirt and leaves on the forest floor.  “You have so much to learn, kid, and I’m not gonna stick around to teach you.”  His hands work at Derek’s belt, hot and frenzied—he’ll be in full wolf form but the next night, but his still-bonded body is telling him it’s time to fuck, to rut.  _It’s been too long for him,_ Derek thinks.

“I don’t expect you to,” Derek says, sliding Dyson’s jacket off his shoulders.  He’s long stopped expecting anything from anyone, anything except sure hands and warm mouths and a steady, heartbroken howl.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Florence & the Machine's "Howl"


End file.
